


Blood Hunt

by ghostfromtuonela



Series: Geraskierweek 2020 [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Geraskierweek2020, Kidnapping, M/M, Obsessive Love, Unrequited Love, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22733191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostfromtuonela/pseuds/ghostfromtuonela
Summary: Jaskier attracts the attention of a higher vampire who becomes hellbent on making him his. When Jaskier is kidnapped, Geralt has to accept every possible help he can get if he wishes to see his bard again.---Part of Geraskierweek 2020. Day 2: Monster Hunt
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskierweek 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633456
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116





	Blood Hunt

If there ever was a hell on earth, it would be Velen.

Cliché as it might sound, there was no better way to describe the region also known as No-Man’s-Land. The last war between Nilfgaard and Redania had torn the region to shreds. Swamps everywhere you went, dead bodies as far as the eye could see and necrophages surrounding the corpses. Geralt was no fan of the countryside, but Velen was a particularly nasty place to live in. Nevertheless, it was also a particularly good place to search for witcher contracts. 

It seemed like it was also an incredible source of inspiration for Jaskier, who had already composed up to five songs about the monsters they’ve come across. He found the fiends to be the most exciting to write about, as well as the legend of the ladies of the woods.

“Careful, or they might curse you,” Geralt said to him.

“Then I should be glad to have a big bad witcher who protects me.”

“How long are you going to rely on me coming to your rescue every time you get into trouble?”

“For as long as you’ll do it. So... forever.”

Geralt only hummed in agreement. As long as Jaskier was there, Geralt would do everything in his power to protect the bard from harm’s way.

“Geralt, how long are we going to keep going? It’s almost sunset and unless we can’t find an inn to spend the night, then can we at least search for a spot to camp? My feet are killing me.”

“We’re not far from Inn at the Crossroads, Jaskier. It’s just a few miles if we follow this road,” Geralt said, “It is a common meeting place among the people of Velen, so you’re bound to make some money there. Or get rotten food thrown at you, in which we will at least have that to eat in case we run out of it.”

“Very funny, Geralt. Have you ever considered quitting this whole witcher thing and maybe become a stand-up comedian?”

“No, but now that you mention it…”

“Don’t even finish that thought.”

“But in all seriousness, it’s a decent place to stay at and the perfect place to find witcher contracts.”

“And I will not get rotten food thrown at me.”

“Of course you won’t. You will dazzle the audience like you always do, and I will have to come and rescue you from some drunk who can’t take “no” for an answer.”

“Just promise me you won’t cause a scene,” Jaskier said, “I don’t want to get kicked out.”

“I’ll try.”

Once they finally reached the Inn at the Crossroads, the sun was already setting in the west. It would be nice to finally eat some real food, drink some ale, get a bath and sleep in a real bed for once. Though Geralt doubted he would be getting that much sleep that night anyway. 

The place was already packed when they entered. Some of the patrons shot dirty looks at them, but thankfully most of them just ignored them. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the White Wolf himself,” the innkeeper said, “You’re in luck, there is one room available. Unfortunately, it contains only one bed.”

“That’s fine,” Jaskier said, “After weeks of sleeping on the ground, a flat floor sounds like heaven.”

The food was nothing special. The meat consisted mostly of bones and sinews, but at least it wasn’t rotten and both Geralt and Jaskier ate as if it was the tastiest steak they had ever eaten. Thankfully the ale was delicious and helped a lot to swallow the dinner. 

“Hey, you there with the lute? Are you a bard of some kind? How about some music?”

Jaskier looked up to see who had spoken to him and saw that half the establishment was looking at him.

“Patience good sirs and madams,” he said, putting on his most charming smile, “I’ve been out on the road for the past weeks with barely any food. But since you asked so nicely, who am I to deny you?”

Jaskier took out his lute and started playing. Most of the songs were old ones he knew were crowd-pleasers and occasionally he would try his luck and see how the audience reacted to some of his newer songs.  _ Toss a coin for your witcher _ was, as usual, a favorite, and he was asked several times to sing it. Most of the people there already knew the words by heart and sang along. Jaskier was completely in his element, and he held nothing back. He would flirt with the people around him and throw kisses at the ladies in the audience. Geralt had long gotten used to the fact that this was just how Jaskier was when he was performing, and it did bring in small amounts of coins as anyone with money to spare was willing to throw it at him. 

“He’s good your bard.”

Geralt was taken out of his trance to look at the man who had spoken. He looked to be in the late thirties or early forties, with wavy brown hair and sporting a five o’clock shadow. He was almost as tall as Geralt but slightly leaner. There was something about him that made Geralt feel uncomfortable but couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He looked like a normal man, albeit a very handsome one, but still normal. 

“Yes, he is,” Geralt answered instead, hoping this man would leave as soon as possible. 

“Name’s Cyprian von Angero, and you’re Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken?”

“Most people nowadays know me as the White Wolf.” It had been a long time since someone had referred to him by that, and he didn’t know what to make of it. 

“All thanks to your bard, no doubt,” Cyprian said, ignoring Geralt’s angry stares or just didn’t notice them. Geralt was willing to put money on that it was the former.

“Yes, he’s made it his mission to give me a better reputation,” Geralt said, “Can’t say I complain either.”

“He’s very pretty too,” Cyprian continued and Geralt had to mentally restrain himself from just punching the guy in the face. Something about the way the man stared at Jaskier made Geralt feel uneasy, like the man was just waiting to sink his teeth into the bard. 

“He’s not available,” Geralt said.

“Of course he isn’t,” Cyprian said, “Forgive me, it was not my intention to offend you, White Wolf. I was merely stating a fact.”

Cyprian thankfully was quiet during the rest of the evening, though he did not move from the spot. Geralt only hoped he would leave before Jaskier returned from his performance, not wanting him to run into the man. He had promised Jaskier not to cause a scene, but if the situation called for it he would do so. Fuck sleeping in a warm bed if it meant keeping Jaskier away from this creep. Geralt had no idea why Cyprian made him feel so uncomfortable. Lots of men expressed admiration for Jaskier, and some took it out in more aggressive manners than others. Cyprian was technically no less creepy than any other. He was significantly less so than other men they’ve come across. Was it the way his eyes seemed to stare at Jaskier as if they could look into the very soul? Or the way he sat so still he might as well be a statue?

Throughout the whole night, Jaskier entertained the public with different pieces of music. Mostly he sang solo, but there were other times when some aspiring bard asked him to accompany them, allowing him to rest his voice for some time. 

Cyprian was still sitting at the same spot after the people finally started to head back home for the night.

“Hello Geralt, you’ve made a friend?”

“Cyprian von Angero, and I was just telling your Witcher here that he’s got an exceptionally talented bard with him.”

“Well thank you, sir,” Jaskier said and shook the man’s hand.

“Where have you learned to play and sing like that?”

“At Oxenfurt, as well as constant practice on my own,” he said, “I was trained in the seven liberal arts, poetry being one of them. Though I didn’t get a hand of poetry until I was nineteen and met Countess de Stael. However, it was only after I found Geralt here that I found my inspiration.”

“Ah, an intellectual as well,” Cyprian said, “How long have you been traveling with Geralt?”

“About two years. We met in Posada, where he was sitting in a corner and just brooding.”

“Sounds like him. Tell me, what inspires someone to just leave and travel around with the Butcher of Blaviken?”

Jaskier was, like Geralt had been, taken aback by the old nickname and just stared at Cyprian before answering.

“I… tend not to listen to such rumors,” he said, “Besides, I lacked inspiration back then and my lyrics were… less than appropriate if I may say so myself. I figured I might as well hit two birds with a rock. I would find the inspiration I needed, and Geralt would perhaps start enjoying a better reputation.”

“Forgive me, sir, but I’m quite tired and I’m sure Geralt would like to go and rest as well. We haven’t slept in a proper bed for the last week.”

“Of course, goodnight Jaskier,” Cyprian said and kissed Jaskier’s hand “Geralt.”

If looks could kill, Cyprian would fall dead from the way Geralt was glaring daggers at him. He put his arm around Jaskier and said nothing even when Jaskier said his farewell.

“What just happened?” Jaskier asked once Cyprian was finally out of the door.

“I have no idea,” Geralt said, “I don’t like him. He was way too interested in you.”

“You don’t like anyone who gives me the slightest bit of attention.”

Geralt didn’t answer him. Instead, he dragged Jaskier to their room and the moment they were inside he pressed the bard up against the wall and kissed him. 

“Always such a tease,” Geralt said between kisses, “I really should just lock you away somewhere where no one will find you.”

“Fucking hell, Geralt. Has anyone told you that you’re possessive as fuck?”

“Multiple times. The same person has also told me how much it turns them on.”

“Goddammit, Geralt…” Jaskier said but Geralt interrupted him by pressing his lips against the bard’s in a possessive kiss.

“Bed, now,” Geralt said after breaking away from the kiss, “Remove your clothes and lay down on your back.

Jaskier did as he was told, painfully hard. Geralt was right when he said it turned him on when Geralt took control like this. Hell, it was one of the reasons Jaskier would flirt with the audience so much, just to bring this animalistic side out of Geralt. Once his clothes were off he laid down on the bed, waiting for Geralt to join him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Geralt murmured when he climbed on top of him, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“As much as I love you,” Jaskier said and wrapped his arms around Geralt, “You know you are the only one for me right?”

“Fucking hope so,” Geralt said.

The room was quickly filled with moans and endless love confessions, neither one aware of the shadowy figure watching them.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistake. If you find any particularly nasty mistakes, let me know :D


End file.
